


the pain of existence

by RedLlamas



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: ? can that be a thing, Body Worship, Inside jokes, Is that a thing, M/M, Mentioned America (Hetalia), Morning After, Old Gods, Old Men In Love, Old Souls, Staying In Bed, body worry, immortals in love, so. u know., this is very heavy on my own headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 22:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLlamas/pseuds/RedLlamas
Summary: Arthur and Antonio have changed since they met. Arthur's brown as the rich soil, Antonio's dark like the desert in the sunset, and they used to have different names.





	the pain of existence

Antonio traced circles on Arthur’s back. The light was shining in through the window, making the room feel soft and warm.

Arthur slowly stirred awake. He felt safe here, with him. He thought of rolling over, but figured that Antonio could tell.

“Morning,” he opted.

“Hey,” Antonio replied.

He kept tracing lazy circles on his back.

Arthur rolled around, Antonio’s hand falling back. He quickly grabbed it and gave it a kiss. Antonio smiled at him.

“What were you thinking about?” Arthur asked, green eyes wide in the morning stillness.

“About how you were paler when we met.”

Arthur’s eyes leave his face for a while, then regrettably come back. “So were you.”

“You’re more dramatic than me." 

“All of us are.”

Antonio reached to card his fingers in his hair. After a few quiet moments, he spoke up again, “You’re graying.”

“All of us are.”

“Not Alfred.”

“No,” Arthur sighs, turning to lay on his back. “Alfred is still young. He’s got a healthy people.”

“You’re also young, you’re very young, younger than him.”

“That’s the whole land you’re thinking of. I _am_ young, but I’m older than him.” He turns his head to look once more at Antonio. “You’re older than me.”

Antonio shrugs. “So what’s a few thousand years between lovers? Besides,” here he tucks a strand of black and gray hair behind Arthur’s ear, “I like silver foxes.”

Arthur chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Old habits die hard, sweetheart.” Antonio stopped caressing his hair to hold his cheek and bring him in for a kiss, kiss, kiss…

As Arthur got dressed, Antonio looked at his back. It had a few old scars, nothing compared to his arms. He felt sorry for them, knowing he must’ve been the cause for a good number of them.

As Arthur buttoned up his shirt, he looked at Antonio and smiled at him. Antonio tried to match his sweetness.

“Now what’re you thinking of?”

“Your scars.”

“Oh,” Arthur said casually, looking down what he could see of his torso, then easily looking back at Antonio. “Chainmail.”

“Not all the time.” Antonio sat up, hugging his knees.

“No. Sometimes I didn’t have a shield, and had to block with my arms.” Arthur summoned old muscle memory to demonstrate how he blocked back when he didn’t have a shield. Antonio sadly smiled.

He looked at his own arms. So many pale lines, crisscrossing each other, never to leave for he is still alive.

“Arantonio.”

Antonio looked up, surprised at hearing his first name after so long. Arthur was looking at with him thoughtful eyes. How different must he look like to them?

Arthur kneeled on the bed and crept closer to him. He brought his hands up to Antonio’s face, rubbing his cheeks, carding down his beard. Antonio closed his eyes, basking in the touch of his love. Arthur brought their foreheads together.

“Te amo.”

Antonio quirked a smile. It wasn’t Spanish, it was Latin, their first shared language. Or at least, one of their firsts.

“Ic bróðorlufu ðu, oferdon,” he replied. He raised his head to kiss him, then cheekily added, “Artair.”

Arthur snickered. He kissed him back.

Arthur didn’t leave, after all.

They were curled up in Antonio’s bed again, dark against lighter skin, Arthur’s head tucked neatly into Antonio’s neck. They could breathe each other in. They smoothed each other’s skin.

“You know,” Arthur began, closing his eyes. “I never thought of my scars.”

“You have so many,” came the easy reply.

“You have more, old man.” Here, he flattened his hand against Antonio’s chest. “I never thought of them, in relation to you.”

Antonio leaned to look down at him. Arthur met his level stare. “Or to anyone. It took me a while to realize.”

Antonio knows exactly where _his_ scars are, they haunt him sometimes. They torment him, make him look at them. He sometimes feels hollow if he lets himself.

He holds back tears. “I hurt you.”

“I hurt _you_.” Arthur lowers his head to kiss Antonio’s skin. There’s a long scar on his chest, slanting from right to left very gently. It was modern, just a few decades old. It wasn’t Arthur’s.

Antonio lets his head fall back on his pillow.

“Hey,” Arthur tried, chasing him. Antonio only looked at him.

“It’s not your fault, us, our existence. We are what we are. We just follow the rules, if we know them or not.”

A kiss to the hollow of Antonio’s neck, right beneath his Adam’s apple. 

“I’m sorry,” Antonio’s voice broke.

“I’m not.” Arthur’s hand smoothed up and down his chest, touch soft.

“Forgive me?”

“Siempre.”


End file.
